Take One Look
by clagjanet
Summary: It's one of their typical ridiculous misunderstandings, but Lee tries to make it better. Takes place during "The Three Faces of Emily".


Many thanks to my betas who tried their darnedest to help me get the mood right and the words spelled correctly. Anything worth complaining about is entirely my fault.

* * *

It was late, especially by Arlington standards. Sidney Whitsett was still out cold, although now he'd been moved to the dining room, in preparation for whatever it was Emily and Lee had in store for him tomorrow.

Amanda had changed out of her evening gown and into a nightgown. She'd debated just getting into sweats or something else comfortable since she had a sneaking suspicion that her house was going to be full of agents all weekend and heaven knew what kind of fast escape might be required. _It would probably be better to be wearing something I can run in,_ she thought, shaking her head and smiling ruefully. Then again, with so many agents underfoot, she shouldn't need to worry, right?

Entering the living room, she set the tray she was carrying down on the ottoman and pulled it up close to the wing chair. She sat down, curling herself into it and trying to ignore the sounds of construction behind her and the traffic of agents in and out the back doors. She didn't understand what Phase Two involved, but Emily seemed so serenely confident that everything would be fine that Amanda felt like she just had to have faith in her. In them, she corrected herself – both Emily and Lee – and they'd never let her down yet.

"If I really needed to know, they'd tell me," she reasoned out loud. "It's my house."

"Are those your double-chocolate chip cookies?" asked Francine hopefully, interrupting her train of thought. "I love those." She settled into a corner of the sofa that had until recently held a snoozing Whitsett and reached for the plate.

Francine and the other agents from the non-functioning safehouse had descended en masse shortly after they'd arrived home with Mr. Whitsett. Amanda could only imagine what the neighbors were thinking; probably that she was having a party while her family was away. As she uncurled herself from the chair and began to prepare a cup of tea for Francine from the tray, she started mentally preparing a story she could tell her mother when she got home.

_Another day, another story _she sighed internally. "_No, Mother, of course I didn't bring a drunk man home. I was painting all weekend, how could I possibly have done_ _such a thing? Mrs. Gilstrap was probably up late watching her mystery thrillers again and imagined it._"

Emily appeared, having changed clothes as well and lowered herself onto the sofa beside Francine with an exhausted sigh. "It's really so good of you to put up with all of this, Amanda," she said. "I can't even think what we would have done without your house as a backup tonight."

"Well, you know I'm always happy to help," smiled Amanda, leaning forward to the tray again. "Tea?" she asked.

"Oh yes," answered Emily with a happy smile. "For all my American upbringing, I must admit I really have learned to love a cuppa, as James would say."

"I was worried it might be a bit late at night for the caffeine," Amanda admitted.

"It probably is," agreed Emily with a cheerful smile. "But it's just the thing to hit the spot." She picked up a cookie off the plate and began nibbling. "And real American cookies to go with it – heavenly!"

"And the next best thing to go with tea and cookies is some good old-fashioned gossip," said Francine, settling back on the sofa with a glint in her eye. "So tell us, Lady Farnsworth – what's the scoop back in England after Amanda and her sex scandal?"

"Francine!" protested Amanda, scarlet-faced. "It was not a sex scandal! It wasn't anything except a big misunderstanding! You know that!"

"Oh, I know that's what you said," grinned Francine. "But that's not what the British papers said!"

"That's true," answered Emily. "I would love to hear all about you and Ralph Bromfield from the horse's mouth." She beamed at Amanda and the twinkle got brighter.

Amanda dropped her cup back onto the saucer with a look of dismay. "Oh Emily, not you too! I've had to put up with teasing from Lee and Francine, but you can't possibly think Lord Bromfield and I-"

"Well, of course I don't!" laughed Emily.

"Oh," said Amanda, taken aback for an instant. "No, of course you don't," she went on, flatly.

"Now Amanda, I didn't mean it like that!" said Emily, seizing her hand and giving it a squeeze. "I've known Ralph for years and I've never seen him look twice at any woman except Gwyneth since they were children. Not even someone as lovely as you."

"I wasn't fishing for a compliment," Amanda smiled at her, cheered up nonetheless by Emily's reaction.

"Oh I know, Dear," agreed Emily. "You never do."

"Do you really know Lord Bromfield?" asked Francine.

"Oh yes," Emily nodded. "James and his father were friends for years. And the Earl of Llanedeyrn as well – that's Gwyneth's father – the British aristocracy can be a very small community, which can be a good or bad thing, depending on the day."

"I thought Lord and Lady Bromfield had an arranged marriage?" asked Amanda, trying not to sound too interested. "Lady Witherspoon said it was."

"Pffft," snorted Emily. "Their fathers probably agreed over a brandy one night that their children should get married someday but it wouldn't have happened if Ralph hadn't been mad for Gwyneth."

"He really is," agreed Amanda, then gave a small grimace. "Unfortunately, his wife didn't seem to feel the same way."

"Well, they seem to be getting along a bit better these days," Emily replied. "And my sources say that's mostly down to you."

"Me?" Amanda squeaked. "What did I do?"

"You didn't have to do anything," smiled Emily. "You just provided Gwyneth some competition and she wasn't used to that. She was so used to thinking that Ralph only had eyes for her that it all came as a huge shock – especially after it turned out that nasty little Douglas-Wood had just been using her all along."

"Amanda was competition? I thought you said nothing happened?" said Francine, sitting up straighter and looking at Amanda with narrowed eyes.

"Nothing did happen!" Amanda defended herself. "The papers made up the whole thing from one picture of us together!"

"Well, that does make more sense," Francine nodded. "Anyone who knows you…"

"Oh I know!" said Amanda sharply, giving Francine an irate look. "_All you have to do is take one look to know it's ridiculous!" _she mimicked Lee's thoughtless words.

"Well, that's not true," said Francine, clearly taken aback. "I mean, tonight's fluffy bunny slippers don't scream sexy, but you're a moderately attractive woman, and when you make an effort… well, heaven knows, we've all heard Lee complain about how he can't leave you alone at parties. Something about you attracts men like flies."

"Absolutely true," agreed Emily firmly. "And I saw some of the photos from the party that evening at Bromfield Hall – you looked exquisite, Amanda."

"Hmph," growled Amanda, slightly mollified. She turned back to look at Francine suspiciously. "So anyone who knows me what?"

"What?" asked Francine, startled.

"Before I interrupted you, you said '_anyone who knows you'. _So anyone who knows me what?"

"Oh! Anyone who knows you knows that you would never do anything as seedy as have an affair with a married man! Goodness knows that whole wholesome Mrs. Cleaver thing you have going seems to appeal to men for reasons that escape me but I will grant you this: your standards are too high for that kind of nonsense."

"Oh," said Amanda, somewhat nonplussed. "Thank you, Francine. I think?"

"I think you can take that as a compliment," smiled Emily. "On the Desmond scale, anyway."

"Of course, it's a compliment," sniffed Francine. "The British papers love that whole doe-eyed innocent look – look at Lady Diana! She looks fine now but remember when she first appeared in public? She was an awkward teenager, terrible hair, dreadful clothes, a _virgin_, for heaven's sake and the press over there just ate her up! You were right up their alley!"

Amanda and Emily exchanged covert smiles.

"You might have wanted to stop with that compliment while you were ahead, Francine," Emily pointed out gently. "I'm sure the English tabloids saw Amanda as the same beautiful woman we do."

"Emily!" exclaimed Amanda, blushing furiously. "Stop it!"

"No, she's right," agreed Francine, grumpy with having been called out. "I didn't put that very tactfully. What I was trying to say was that if they liked a dowdy thing like Diana was back then, you must have seemed like a… a…" Francine paused to think, then finished triumphantly "Like a movie star!"

"Well, now that is ridiculous!" laughed Amanda. "They can't seriously have thought that! They were just trying to sell papers!"

"Oh no," Emily disagreed. "I mean, you're right about them wanting to sell papers, but Margery said you were the center of attention at that party."

"Well, they'd just all read those terrible stories!" protested Amanda. "And Lady Witherspoon was the worst one! I mean, once they saw me, they must have known it was all made up."

"That's where you're wrong," said a new voice.

The three women turned to see Lee leaning on the doorway from the family room. Amanda hadn't heard him arrive over all the construction noise but the slight frown on his face suggested he'd been listening for a while.

"Oh really?" said Amanda skeptically. "That's sure not what you said when it happened. You said it was ridiculous."

"Oh Lee," said Emily in a disappointed tone. "You didn't."

"And he said no one should have believed it for a second!" Amanda answered for him.

"I didn't mean it that way," said Lee sheepishly. "I was trying to make you feel better and it came out wrong."

"It didn't come out wrong! You _argued_ with me about it," Amanda shot back, as Francine looked back and forth between them like a tennis match. "You said-"

"I know what I said!" interrupted Lee, guilt and exasperation mixed in his voice. "Look, can I talk to you outside? Alone?" he added pointedly, jerking his head toward the patio doors.

Amanda glanced at Emily and Francine who were now both watching with fascination.

"Okay," she said, rising to her feet, and pulling her dressing gown sash tighter.

She walked out of the living room past Lee and out the French doors. Once she reached the gazebo, she turned and stared at him expectantly, arms crossed. "So what have I done wrong now?" she asked in a cross tone.

"What?" said Lee, clearly taken aback, "You haven't done anything wrong!"

"Oh sure, you dragged me out here away from witnesses to tell me what a terrific job I'm doing," she replied, sarcasm dripping in her voice.

Lee ran his hand over the back of his head and sighed. "No, actually I asked you out here so I could explain about that whole Bromfield thing."

Amanda sat down abruptly on the bench seat. "Explain? Explain what? Oh no, please don't tell me the American papers have got hold of it! How am I going to explain that to Mother? Especially since I never told her about it and it was months ago! She's going to think it's true because I never told her! When is it going to be published? I mean, we can't stop them, can we? Not with freedom of the press and everything and-"

"Amanda! Stop! No one is going to publish anything!" said Lee holding up a hand. He allowed himself a small smile at her obvious relief, then turned serious again. "I wanted to explain why I said what I said that day."

"Oh." Amanda's expression shuttered as she looked up at him. "Well, thank you but I mean, it's not like you weren't right. I mean, no one would look at me and think…" She gestured at her fuzzy blue dressing gown.

"Well, no," agreed Lee, racing on when she looked at him with a hurt expression. "But earlier tonight? When you were all dressed up? It's no wonder Whitsett zeroed in on you – I should have expected it. I mean, I should be used to it by now."

"Okaaaay," said Amanda guardedly.

Lee walked over and sat down beside her on the bench. "The thing is, I kind of have a confession about that whole thing."

"You do?" she asked suspiciously.

"Yeah," he nodded. "The night of the party at Bromfield Hall, when we were all still inside before the whole-"

"Maze murder thing?" she supplied.

Lee nodded. "Before that. When we walked in and before I went off chasing after Thompson…"

"Compson," she corrected him.

"Right. Compson," he repeated, slightly irritated. "Just let me finish, will ya?"

Amanda nodded and he geared himself up again.

"Just after we walked in, and you were talking to Lady Bromfield, I could hear people nearby talking about you…"

Amanda closed her eyes and groaned softly. "Oh no."

"And one of the things I heard – very clearly – was a woman who said '_Well,_ _all you have to do is take one look to know it's…'_

"Ridiculous" whispered Amanda in a hurt tone, staring down at her lap.

"_Absolutely true" _Lee pushed on._ "How could dowdy little Gwyneth compete with a woman like that?"_

Amanda lifted her head and stared at him. "They thought it was true? Oh my gosh, all those people Lord Bromfield thought were his friends thought it was true?"

Lee's lips twitched at the way Amanda's thoughts went immediately to someone else's feelings. "His real friends wouldn't have," Lee consoled her. "But that's not what I'm trying to tell you. People at that party believed it could be true because you were the loveliest woman in the room."

Amanda blushed and ducked her head. "You're just trying to make up for that comment."

"I am," he agreed. "And it really did come out wrong and I thought you understood it back then because we had that whole conversation about it being ridiculous, but I guess you didn't. And I just didn't realize how wrong it sounded until I heard someone else say almost the same thing. The thing is, Amanda…" he paused to gather his thoughts. "When I said, anyone looking at you would know it couldn't be true, I didn't mean because you aren't pretty, I meant… well, I meant I don't look at you that way."

"Obviously," said Amanda, not hiding her annoyance. "Why would you?"

"Oh I don't mean it that way either," he complained. "I mean, when I look at you, I see _you_!"

"You are making less and less sense every minute," she pointed out. "Of course you see me – you see me every day!"

"And that's why I don't see the person the tabloids saw!" he explained, sounding triumphant.

Amanda said nothing, just tilted her head and stared at him, obviously waiting for more.

Lee sighed and started over. "Okay look – the day we met… you were wearing pretty much what you're wearing now, right?"

Amanda glanced down and then back up with a grimace. "I suppose I was."

"And on a whole train platform full of people there was something I saw in you that made me ask you for help. And you did – you really helped me out that day. Yeah, yeah, I know," he forestalled her when she looked like she was going to interrupt. "Not the way I intended, but you did. And then you helped me again searching the post office and telling me about the code and showing up to save me and fly the helicopter…"

"You commented on my looks that day too,' Amanda pointed out grumpily.

"I did," he nodded. "Because I was still trying to figure out who this crazy brave woman was who'd popped out of nowhere to save me. You weren't like anyone I'd ever met before – and I hadn't learned to look past all that."

"I'm just a regular person, Lee," she shrugged. "Plain old boring Amanda."

"After all the crazy things we've done together, I'm not sure I could ever call you boring," he teased. "But look, when I said it was ridiculous, it wasn't meant to be an insult although I guess it came out that way. I mean, when I look at Francine, I don't see her as "beautiful" or "ex-girlfriend" or any of those things. I see an agent I respect and who I know I can count on. I see a friend."

"And when you look at me?" asked Amanda carefully. "You see frumpy housewife who could never…"

"When I look at you, I see _you_," he answered, exasperated. "I see someone who is loyal and smart and loves her kids and her mother and is sometimes frustrating but is also the kind of person who lets us take over her house with no warning because we were desperate…"

"Oh," she whispered.

"And someone who would _never_ have a fling with a married man out of nowhere, and ruin a marriage and anyone who knows you would know that was ridiculous!" he finished. He ran his hand through his hair again. "Those people don't _see_ you, Amanda, not like I see you!"

"I see," she answered, giving a little hiccupped laugh at her choice of words.

Lee looked faintly relieved, then began to shift from foot to foot nervously. "Well, anyway, I thought you knew that," he said gruffly. "I'm sorry you misunderstood and I'm, uh, glad we cleared that up."

_You're sorry that I misunderstood?_ _If that isn't just the most Stetson-y apology…_ Amanda tilted her head and studied him. He was obviously uncomfortable at finding himself even that close to apologizing; his expression had slipped into that bland one that she thought of as the equivalent to that phone voice you use with strangers, the one that said he thought it was all settled – to his satisfaction. She rolled her eyes and stifled a sigh, while Lee looked at her suspiciously.

"What?"

"Nothing," she said. She got up and turned to walk back in the house. "I'm glad we got that cleared up too."

"Amanda."

She turned her head, looking at him inquiringly. Lee hadn't moved yet; he was standing in the same spot, staring at her with an uncertain expression, brow furrowed and his fingers rubbing together in a sure sign he was working something through in his head. She knew that look; he knew she was still annoyed but didn't know why. Amanda turned more fully and waited for him to figure it out – she could almost see the gears turning.

"I shouldn't have said ridiculous," he stated.

She remained silent, looked at him coolly as a pained guilty look flitted across his face.

"Amanda," he began again. "I didn't mean I don't look at you. I mean, I don't look-look, but I do notice… I mean, not in a weird way but…" He trailed off and grimaced. "You looked really nice tonight," he finally blurted out.

"Thank you," she replied, softening her posture a little. "So did you."

Lee relaxed a little. "That dress was really nice with the… and the…" his hands were waving helplessly around in the air as he tried to describe it. "And I was thinking… you know… there's a New Year's party at the Soviet Embassy next week – if you'd like to go, I promise it will be a longer evening than we had tonight. "

"You want me to go…? Oh right," Amanda nodded. "No more Margo."

"Well that and, you know, I feel like you deserve a nice evening that doesn't have…"

"Phase two?" she teased.

Lee's smile lit up in the darkness of the backyard. "Yeah. No phase two. This time I swear it will be straight out pleasure - and you could wear the dress again."

"You know, I do have more than one dress," she pretended to reprimand him.

"Great! Then you must need more parties to wear them at, right?" he asked. "So, would you? Come to the embassy party with me?"

With a flash of clarity, she understood – _this_ was the apology. For all his smooth-talking prowess, action was Lee's language –when the topic veered off the superficial, he got flustered and floundered until he could figure out something he could _do_. Parties, pandas, _clowns_…

"Do I get dinner too?" she couldn't resist teasing him.

"Absolutely!" Lee agreed instantly.

He looked so relieved that she had to chuckle. "In that case, I'd love to," she answered.

* * *

Lee disappeared off to deal with some questions the construction team had as soon as they walked back in. Amanda walked back to the living room, smiling when she saw Emily and Francine were both wearing the same expectant expression.

"What was that all about?" Francine asked bluntly.

"Oh, Lee just wanted to clear up some details about where we're going from here," she answered brightly. "Phase two."

Francine gazed at her intently as if she knew Amanda wasn't telling the whole story. "Phase two?"

"Yes indeed," interrupted Emily. "Now that we've dragged poor Amanda into all this business with Whitsett, I'm sure he had some explaining to do."

"Exactly," Amanda nodded, grateful for Emily's intervention. "He wanted me to know how he sees things," she added, unable to resist. "Make sure we're on the same page, looking at the big picture, that sort of thing."

"So you're both ready for the next phase?" Emily's twinkle was firmly back in place and Amanda could tell the double meaning was intentional.

Amanda smiled back and made a see-saw motion with her hand. "We'll see how it goes."


End file.
